


Thrill

by bioplast_hero



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 18:54:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16749712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioplast_hero/pseuds/bioplast_hero
Summary: Wherein Geordi works up the nerve to finally kiss his android crush.





	Thrill

**Author's Note:**

> More nice, squishy fluff that I never posted before. Enjoy it!

Tonight was the night. Geordi had spent far too many weeks rehearsing what he should do, what he should say, only to let another night pass without making his desires known. Enough was enough; he summoned his courage and focused on preparing for Data to join him. 

It was the third night this week that they would spend together. Two days ago there had been a handbell concert in Ten Froward attended by a good number of fellow officers and their families. When Geordi noticed they were surrounded by happy couples, rather than feeling embarrassed he was emboldened. He risked stretching his arm across the back of Data’s lounge chair, settling in somewhat closer to his friend than he usually would. He allowed himself to imagine that they were a couple like any other, and felt genuinely happy. 

After the concert the illusion blinked away, and yet Geordi asked Data to take a walk with him in the arboretum. They were on their way when Data was recalled to the Bridge. That was life aboard a starship; he would have to try again later. To his credit, Data made clear that he regretted the need to postpone. 

//But is that right, Geordi? Regret is an emotion.// He found himself getting carried away interpreting Data’s facial expressions. Data was enough of an actor for Geordi to doubt what he thought he saw in brief facial expressions. That alone was not evidence of feeling, given the likelihood of projecting emotion on Data from a human perspective. But that didn’t matter; Geordi knew Data understood in his own way. 

 

\--

 

Geordi recalled a night they shared a week weeks ago. Data had invited Geordi to his quarters to play music, something they did off and on. Data had easily mastered the mechanics of classical guitar, but sought to improve the dynamics of his performance. Geordi had learned the instrument as a young man, and while he was no maestro, Data claimed to be fascinated by the way that he varied the tone and timbre intuitively. 

Geordi thought this might be flattery and didn’t plan to ask Data for a frank aesthetic assessment; he enjoyed their exchanges, and had quite gotten over feeling intimidated by android ability in most areas of life. They would play harmonies together or, more often, work on their solo interpretations with feedback from the other. 

Guitar playing had devolved for a time into telling old stories, some of them from awkward times at the Academy. Geordi found himself laughing near to tears, and Data for his part knew enough about human laughter these days to time a few of his observations perfectly to make Geordi laugh even harder. The irony was not lost on Data that he had learned to provoke laughter without the slightest understanding of what was funny about it. 

Spot jumped into Data’s lap, momentarily distracting the android with the need to replicate an appropriate feline suplement. Geordi removed his VISOR to dab his wet eyes with the back of his hand, getting control of his laughter at last. 

How could he enjoy Data’s company so completely, he thought, and Data feel nothing at all? Geordi knew better; Data could claim he was immune from sentiment, but had proven otherwise on numerous occasions. Was there a neural relay for worry? Of course not. What was it in his physical makeup that sparked his android compassion? Probably the same mysterious part that gave rise to his consciousness: the organic/inorganic interface in the anterior cortex of his positron brain. That was his mind, where his thinking occurred, as opposed to his brain which was not unlike the ship’s computer in storage and computation capacity. 

Data had wishes—could one call them desires?—even if tastes and preferences were lost on him. His motivations were moral first, social second, and sensory last of all. Data experienced no emotional response, and yet in his way he experienced worry, belonging, grief, contentment, betrayal, amazement, disappointment, hope. Perhaps he had redefined these experiences entirely in his own way, and perhaps he could not always see that, but Geordi now had little doubt of Data’s distinct moods. Would he know love when he experienced it, and would he call it that, or something else?  

When Data returned, Geordi asked Data to play again. “Only this time, play it like someone has just broken your heart.” 

“As I am sure you are aware, Geordi, that is not very helpful.” 

“Maybe not. Or maybe I’m onto something here. You usually try to imitate playing with emotion, rather than identifying something you can use from your own experience. So, forget heartbreak. Call it something else. What is the best thing you’ve ever experienced? No—don’t tell me,” Geordi cut him off before he could speak, “just think about it.” 

Data cocked his head to the side in thought, his eyes distant. Then he looked straight at Geordi and nodded. 

“Now how does it feel to lose what you treasure?” 

Data frowned. 

Geordi hated doing this to him. But if his friend was going to continue to insist he had no feelings, then he might have to hazard hurting him to demonstrate what emotion really meant. The point was, this approach seemed to be working. “I don’t know what you’re thinking right now. Now, play that song and show me what you’re thinking.” 

Data was looking into the distance again. Just when Geordi thought he would not play at all, Data brought the guitar into his lap and began playing. It was the opposite of his other attempts to play dynamically, where he expended a good deal of concentration to mimic the swaying motion of a human being supposedly lost in thought. This time Data was completely still except for his hands, his left arm moving to work the fretboard. But behind that unusual movement, the intermediate notes rang out more fully, while the notes at the end of each phrase took on a minor timbre and fell away more quickly. 

Geordi removed the VISOR from his temples to listen in the dark. Was it wishful thinking, or could he hear sorrow? Yes, he could. It was beautiful, sweet sadness. It was more poignant than anything Data had played before. As he came to the final phrases, the music swelled subtly, with a slight tremble, and Geordi’s emotions stirred. If it was mimicry, it was the most convincing acting Data had ever done. When the song was over, Geordi had to collect himself. 

"I think I understand," Data said. 

"I believe you do," Geordi said with a sigh. “That was incredible, Data. Very… moving. Only, I’m sorry that it hurts.” Geordi reached to touch Data’s knee. 

"It is alright, Geordi. It is not emotional pain as you would experience it. But when I remember my daughter’s face, that is the closest I may come to that feeling. Lal’s life taught me some of the greatest lessons. In retrospect, it does not surprise me very much to find this lesson in her memory as well.” 

Geordi got to his feet. “It’s getting late, I’m afraid. I’ll see you on the alpha shift?” 

“Yes, Geordi. Goodnight.” 

 

\--

 

Tonight Data was coming over for dinner. Data did not eat, but occasionally sampled new foods. Besides, Geordi had been running out of ideas for casual ways they could spend time together. With the concert, the arboretum and dinner, their plans had drifted solidly into romantic territory. Geordi couldn’t help but see that he was at the point of no return on this one. 

As Geordi set the table, he considered what needed to be said. He would have to say or do something quite remarkable, Geordi mused, because all the social/cultural hints in the world had not yet forced the conversation. In the last two weeks in particular, as long as they were off duty Geordi had allowed himself to touch Data with only the slightest provocation. Data had seemed to notice, but didn’t remark on it. “Perhaps he’s like me,” Geordi said aloud to himself, “and he’s afraid it’ll stop if he breaks the spell.”

The door chimed. “Come on in,” Geordi replied with a sing-song voice. Data wore his usual uniform, immaculate as ever. Geordi had opted for a dark blue civilian sweater. Data surveyed the table and could think of nothing that was missing from the scene. “Everything’s ready, Data, have a seat.” Geordi strode back to the replicator and called up the recipe he had programmed. “This is my family’s recipe for gnocchi and roasted tomato sauce. It’s probably my favorite dish. I hope you enjoy it.”

Data replied politely, “I am sure that I will.” 

Throughout the meal, Geordi was an unremitting flirt. He touched Data’s hand more than once, playfully at first and then sincerely. He spoke in teasing tones. He wanted to tell Data he was handsome but the words stuck in his throat—maybe that wasn’t what he wanted to say? After the meal, Geordi replicated a couple of cocktails and they moved to the sofa. He waited for Data to sit first, so that he could sit too close once again, his left knee touching Data’s leg as Geordi sat with one leg tucked under him. 

“That was our predicament precisely.” 

“Was that before or after Commander Riker seduced the matriarch of Angel I?” Geordi asked with a laugh. Before Data could answer, he said, “Never mind, I know the answer to that,” his brow quirked with amusement. 

Data was looking at his hand, which rested on his own knee just millimeters from Geordi’s knee. Geordi saw Data’s hand twitch to move, and then stop. //He must be sensing the moment, but he is holding back. I do have to take the lead. That is only fair.// Just then Data’s eyes lifted to Geordi’s face, with an expression of curiosity masking some greater intensity in his eyes. 

“I’m glad you came over tonight, Data. I’ve been enjoying spending more time with you.”

“As have I.” 

“Data,” he spoke softly, "may I kiss you?”

"Yes, Geordi," his voice questioning. 

Geordi leaned forward to meet Data’s lips, and found the android seeking him as well. Data’s eyes flicked repeatedly from his lips to his VISOR and back, checking and rechecking the invitation. As Data’s eyes finally closed, their lips met softly, Geordi’s mouth moving tenderly on Data’s fine lips. Geordi felt heat surge through him, felt a tremor in the dam holding his desire in check. Something spilled over as he applied more pressure, finding his fingers in the hair at the base of Data’s neck. With great effort, Geordi contained his feelings once more, softened the kiss, loosened his grip so that his fingertips barely trailed on the skin above his collar. 

"What did you feel?" Geordi asked. 

Data thought it only fair that he first be allowed to ask a question of his own, and yet he decided to refrain and 'play along.’

And yet Data hesitated. Usually, he would protest when asked for emotional interpretations he could not provide. And yet he knew, as he had on certain other occasions, that he had experienced something relevant to the human emotions that colored Geordi's world. It was a powerful experience. He would see if he could satisfy his request. 

Geordi added, "I know, no emotions. Interpret as you will," he smiled to ensure he wouldn't seem annoyed. 

"To be honest, Geordi, I did not know how to interpret your request. Was this to be a demonstration of some kind, or an experiment?" Lest this sound accusatory, Data quickly assured him, "I would not believe that you would ask something of me without taking care to consider my perspective. I had to assume it was either genuine affection, or that you had good reasons in any case." Geordi nodded, his expression carefully neutral. 

"Before you kissed me, my mind raced with activity. I would call it anticipation. I have had that experience when embarking on a dangerous mission, particularly when my friends are at risk. It is an extremely alert state that I associate with danger, but, I realize that more broadly it could be associated with another form of risk. I believe that Counselor Troi would call it vulnerability. On the contrary, since the sensation was enjoyable, I might rather call it as Commander Riker would--a kind of 'thrill.’

"Instead of waiting to determine what you intended, my mind raced to follow several options to their logical conclusions. While you could have meant only to teach me about my own ‘emotions’ again as you have done during our guitar sessions, you have given indications that your feelings for me may have become more intimate than before. I fixated on one possibility in particular," Data would have flushed if he could, “and then I wondered if I could in this instance encounter disappointment. 

"I still had not guessed your intentions, and your kiss was not as I expected. You were... tender with me for a moment, but then passionate. I was surprised... by your desire. And I wished you would not stop," Data looked at Geordi intently, eliciting his sharp inhale. 

"Data," he breathed. 

"I hope that is an adequate reply to your question—“ he barely finished the sentence before Geordi’s mouth was on his again. This time Geordi would not hold back. 

Data could not now deny what was on Geordi's mind, but it struck him with absolute amazement. His best friend, desiring his kiss, his touch, his affection. He experienced a rush of the thought patterns he associated with great joy. He focused his attention on Geordi's movements, looking for telltale clues of what he most desired. Data was determined to make this encounter a memorable one, whatever may come of it.  


End file.
